The Alchemical Rede Magazine In The
Center, The Dot
By Clarity
In The Center, The Dot
Introduction:
A moveable rendering is what is now needed.
2026 February 15th Issue
In The Center, The Dot
“So many people these days are afraid to use their muchness, and that seems to tilt things oddly,” Alice said, “fortunately we have just the thing for such occurrences,” as she reached for her favorite teapot and canister of Blackberry Sage Tea.
“Ooo,” said the Dormouse, as she ran across the Table to retrieve more cups and saucers, “I’m so looking forward to the increase in company, we could use more people and their muchness.”
The Dot in the Center vibrated its approval and the Corners shook in agreement. The room was abuzz with the possibilities and potentialities that presented themselves.
Anytime Time and Space team up, you can count on the numbers and letters coming along for the ride. Stellar emanations rotate into view, so that the event is noted as a worthy course of action.
“We had better get out the really good glasses, if we want to see everything clearly,” said Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum together, as that is how they always did things.
“Dot is coming and we’ll put her in the Center,” said the White Rabbit, looking at his pocket watch and curling its fob around his fingers.
When your Papered Awareness gets to the point of being able to Story-tell you into a day of unplanned events, then you know that what is unfolding is of a wondrous portent.
“Mark my words,” said The Cheshire Cat, showing up in the lower most upper branches of the furtherest nearest tree, “ this is going to be a hum-dinger kind of day.”
As a rotation takes place, as they do every day out of the year, and sometimes within the year, as well, the orbits seem to wobble and pitch, creating every second that seconds every motion.
The wobble is an emotionary illusion that causes undue worry, and the Table settles the unease with a series of easinesses. Its place is in the Center, and with Dot joining us, all is quite well.
“Well, well, well,” said the Hatter, “I see we all have our hats on, what’s the occasion? Is there an event of grand proportion that makes its marks upon the up and coming?”
The Red Thread wove its way forward, around the very question asked, and began to stitch out answers, first with an exclamation mark, and then with crowning achievement of gathering.
The Voice spoke of many grand and happy events to come and The Mind took in everything said, as a Matter of course.
Registry calculated the distance between each corrugation and came up with an equation that made perfect sense, and the numbers agreed. The Story was right on the mark, and the cellular process continued.
Rooted in the equation was the sound of volume that equated registry with occurrence and occurrence with proximity and proximity with the closest furtherest things imaginable. It was that close.
When you have a close call, there are no long distance charges, and now with cell phones, the voice carries much further, to the furthest reaches, at least, and when you have long distance, it still seems up close and personal.
But what’s really going on is the cellular resilience restaging itself for the next full story in the lexicon of Tales of True Told, as if fiction, though not.
“Follow the Red Thread, not the money,” said the Caterpillar, “ money can be such smoke-screen”, as he puffed out another cloud of digital information, encoded of course.
Counting out the number of books registered since the advent of 2000 years, this being the 2,026th, though miscounted by the powers that are, the number of pages, and then the number of paragraphs, not to mention the number of words…..
Well it’s a lot to ask of anyone to realize the number of letters it takes to complete a book, not to mention how all the words fit together and make sense. Shape creates information, to learn letters you had to learn shape first.
What was once a favor is now a given, the answers are a matter of course when questions are asked, it wasn’t always so. To thread a response takes line, color, and shape, so that the building has a space to time itself within.
It takes time, and when given enough space, almost anything can register. Depth is occurrence through listening. Hearing is taking time and space and making it shape itself into a lettered and numerical accountment.
We are shaped by our shaping, and our shaping is stitched letter by letter, into a weave so well crafted that to spell out a Story is to mention its origin.
The Dot at the Center, the photonic resonance that rotates into Light and Sound, numb brr [the cold of space], let her [the Mother Tongue] speak, or utter [the Milky Way] of connection and nurturance, Origin.
Numbered inside of each letter are the amounts of shape, the curve, crease, and fold that corrugates us into understanding as we follow the Story each one adds us up to.
We are the equational mass of gathering, we hunt for and find the necessary geomatric information, so that we are able to move our steps in alignment with our resources.
To build place is to become patient with time, time has become something we can barely live in, time is something we cannot wait for. We have become impatient beings, that shorten our life with not allowing time.
We inherit any qualities but the most valuable one is tolerance for time. Allowing it to build, allowing it to become and most of all allowing it to be seen, understood, allowed and given.
To take time for a day is often desired to be skipped, to bee skipped over, not skipped through. We allow ourselves the decision of time, and then we go inside of it; the room, the space, the windows, the clearing.
Purpose is never spelled out if there is no time, guidance is never heard if there is no time, no healing accepted if there is no time.
How big do you have to become to have room for time? It is not how many things did you do, but how much time did you receive?
The opening is marked and the way is more specific than we ever realized. Get up off your shoes, and put them on your feet. You must hit the road jack, and time will card away your keys.
Hit the road jack, and know you are headed somewhere specific. You play and compass everything, till its all mapped out, and you can squeeze into the corner until it is something.
I’ve taken you from the beginning to the end, and back again in these last two paragraphs. Mark top your heat, your anger, your hatred, your foulness, before you spoil completely, and your life becomes one big movement of chance.
Wait for it. The mineral deposits of this world are now generating what your alchemical process needs to shift, to open, to receive, to become part of every single particle of need, want, and desire.
Splice is the ticket for trinary code, and it will match your charger for the first time. Liquify all your assets to be drunk in easily, purely, joyfully. Expel all the unknown garbage, now you have room to begin.
You have joyful room, creative room, loving room, building room, generous room that holds you in a perfect Square open to rotational wisdom at every angle possible.
Potent you are, so regret nothing. You see time, give it, you see time, eat it, you see time, create it, you see time, mobilize it, you see time, expel disregard, expel the lack of Source, expel the lack of space, expel the finished particle awareness.
Step down into your own orbit, and release the hold. The coming, always easy, the sharing, always hard, the essential always easy, the being, always hard, retaliating no longer done.
Recomposing a thread of awareness given, the Red Thread, access from the heat of blood, passion, pleasure, ecstasy, then recompose.
You are already part of, so part of you could never be left out. When the mark comes threading, open up your hand, thread it around your fingers and through the needle.
Penetrate the world with the needled up Red Thread, and know all that you have come to do is sew. Sew the Red Thread, sew the Seed, sew the made up potency, and create a world that listens to what you have come to say.
Potency, a Heart seeded with Intention, Need, Ecstasy, and Fulfillment.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle the hold free, make sure the Moon knows your name, make sure you are attached to the end of the Thread that has wiggled free.
We are nine days coded, and the Thread is coated with a red stream of intentionality, and the free letters number into three. Up pops the Code, up opens the Door, and up flies onto the upward spiral of today.
The Visionary purpose of welling up is not the prodigal son of welling down, but instead it’s the memory of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and the day of the Sun rising up to give light into the whole decision of what is the world that has decided to fulfill the Intention of the Creatress.
You want to finish it up, then cool down your heat, and let it generate a new life beyond your present dreams. Speak four to three, three to two, two to one, and one to zero, and then match it up with five to six, six to seven, seven to eight, divide the calm, open the threshold , potentualize nine and break free at ten.
It’s all in the numbers, it’s all in the intention, it’s all in the letters, it’s all in the mind at Zero Point.
All the numbers line up and their alignment creates the great doing. What once was difficult is now easy, and the easy takes prime the Thread of Red.
